


The fascination of Dean Winchester

by Nejinee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Bi-Curiosity, Dean Has a Sexuality Crisis, Gender Issues, Genderbending, Humor, M/M, Porn Watching, Sex Education, Sexuality, Swearing, sam is too patient for this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A demon curse gone crazy starts transforming the men in a small town. Dean and Sam are unaffected, but Cas, unfortunately, gets slammed with the full force of the curse. So now Cas has lady parts. It would be kind of hilarious and terrifying if only Dean could get his mind off the damn fact that Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Slayer of Evil, has freakin' lady parts!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this story for ages. Not exactly a new idea, granted, but definitely worth investigating.

“Disgusting!” Dean all but roared as he slammed into the motel room, fingers scraping at the gunk in his hair. “Why can’t we get the non-exploding monsters, huh?”

Sam trailed behind him into the room. He too was covered in black goo, his hair plastered to his cheeks, shoulders dripping everywhere.

“It could have been worse, Dean,” he intoned calmly while Dean proceeded to rip his jacket off. “Hey, hey, don’t make a mess! We cannot afford the bill.”

“Yech!” Dean spat, finally wrestling free of the messed up leather. He dangled the jacket between two fingers, clearly torn between keeping and salvaging his favourite jacket or just throwing it out the window. “This shit stinks, Sammy.”

Sam just shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when we bust a demon curse.” A long few days of hunting down the evil sonuvabith had led them to a loud and messy curse-breaking ceremony. Yeah, the got bit the dust, but at the cost of Dean and Sam’s appearances.

“My baby has demon splork all over her seats, Sammy,” Dean hissed. “this is _so_ not okay! _”_

“You were lucky you were not injured,” came a deep voice.

“Jesus!” Dean spun about, surprised. “Cas! Dude!” The angel was in his personal space. Again. God, didn’t he _learn?_ Dean wasn’t sure if he meant Cas or himself, due to his inability to not freak out whenever the anal bastard appeared outta nowhere. 

The trenchcoat-wearing angel just stared back impassively.

“Cas, back off,” Dean said, trying to calm himself.

“What he means is,” Sam said, “Thanks for your help back there, Cas.”

The angel stared at Dean a moment longer before turning to Sam. “It was a foolish endeavour. It was hardly worth my time. You two need to be more observant.”

“Oh, thanks so _much_ , Cas. Feel the love over here,” Dean snapped. “Next time, don’t fuckin’ help. We don’t need you.”

And with that, the man stormed into the tiny bathroom. He slammed the door behind him.

“He is being petulant,” Cas said calmly, looking Sam over.

The taller Winchester smirked. “Yeah, Dean’s not proud of it, but he’s a total princess about being clean.”

Cas tilted his head comically. “The history of most royal houses actually indicates a lack of cleanliness leading up to the twentieth century. Most royalty actually preferred–“

Sam threw up his hands. “Ok, Cas? I was making fun of Dean.”

Dean reappeared suddenly, stomping over to his satchel and grabbing it up. He clearly had forgotten to take a change of clothes with him. He was gone again in a second.

“Hmf,” Cas huffed, clearly annoyed that, once again, he missed the joke. “I can go purchase a meal for you both. I know hamburgers cheer Dean up.”

Sam smiled, “Yeah, that would be great, actually. You know, you’re pretty lucky you never got the demon juice splattered all over you, right?”

Cas shrugged. “Demon curses do not affect me.”

“You mean you weren’t close enough to the exploding shrine.” Sam wrinkled his nose and sniffed his sleeve. “Ugh. I really stink now.”

The sound of the shower was dull in the background.

“I will go now,” Cas said drily. “Is twenty minutes enough?”

Sam blinked. “Time for what?”

“For you and Dean to bathe and clothe yourselves appropriately. Dean has mentioned before that my timing is not … acceptable. I see no problem with your or his nakedness. But Dean does seem bothered by my presence at such times.”

“Ah, yeah. Twenty minutes is good. Thanks, Cas.”

 

And in a rustle of feathers, the angel was gone.

 

—-***—-

 

Dean was slumped on the motel bed in his boxers and grey tee. He eyed the news on the TV as a reporter mentioned something about an explosion rocking a nearby shipping warehouse near the docks. The story changed to something about a strange virus going around, but at that moment, Cas appeared.

Dean scowled at the perfectly clean angel. Son of a bitch always managed to come out unscathed. “Dude, privacy mean anything to you?” Dean proceeded to drag his fresh jeans across the bed. Castiel frowned. Dean tried not to think about Cas staring as he wriggled into his jeans. Dean flopped back onto the bed once he had them up and on, bare feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

Castiel held up what was in his hands. a takeout burger-joint bag and a six-pack of cheap beer.

Dean was about to tell the angel to fuck off, when Sam appeared through the bathroom door, towel rubbing through his wet hair.

“Cas! Awesome. I’m starving.”

Castiel settled the food and drinks on the small table under the motel window.

“What’s up?” Sam asked his brother as he passed Dean.

Dean sighed and scooted off the bed. “Nothin’. Was checkin’ the news. Seems the shrine explosion made headlines. No leads on what the police think it was.”

“They _may_ not be leaning towards a demon curse-shrine dedicated to the torture and eradication of disgruntled, sexist pigs who were caught multiple times cheating on their wives. So I think we’re safe.”

Dean grunted as Sam handed him a- _oh sweet Jesus_ -fully loaded bacon cheeseburger with extra crispy fries. The smell was heavenly.

“Ok, fine,” Dean said, unwrapping the glorious gift. He looked over at Cas, who hadn’t moved from his spot. “I accept this food, Cas. Even if you ‘magically’ zapped out without getting gunkified by the Demon spunk, at least you know what’s good eats.” Dean bit into the burger and all but moaned his happiness. 

“Well, at least he’s happy,” Sam said, digging for his own burger.

Cas was staring into space, frown deep, as though thinking about deep theological questions.

“Cas?” Sam turned. “Hey, you there?”

The angel blinked. Dean could have sworn he saw a shiver ripple over the guy. Weird.

“Uh,” Cas intoned gravely. “Nothing. Just … something strange. I feel … unwell.”

Dean cracked open a beer, eyebrows raised. “You feel sick? What? Angel mojo not good for the flu?”

Cas frowned at the floor. He touched his stomach. “I-do not have the flu.” He frowned at Dean. “Angels do not get _the flu_.”

 

Castiel grabbed the back of a chair, fingers cracking the flimsy wood. Well, there went the deposit on this place. Dean frowned. Castiel’s eyes were wide, confused, staring up at Dean. He looked kind of pale too.

“Cas? Hey, man, you ok?” Sam stepped closer, dropping the food bag on the table. He gripped Castiel’s shoulders. “Cas? Hey, buddy?”

Cas seemed about to speak, mouth wavering, when his eyes just rolled back and he slumped over, Sam just managing to stop him hitting the floor.

 

“Jesus,” Dean said, mouth full of burger. “Pansy-ass angel.”

“Dean!” Sam hissed, struggling to shift the heavy body of a full-grown man. “Help me. Ugh. Get him to the bed.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Jeez. Celestial gunk-dodger faints due to the flu? What are we? Nurses?”

 

“ _Dean._ ”

 

—-***—-

 

“Dude, have you seen this?” Sam said the minute Dean got back from getting gas. 

“‘ _Thanks Big Bro for dropping off our clothing at a dry cleaners at the middle of ass-crack dawn_ ’. Oh no, it’s fine, Sammy, my pleasure.”

“Shut up, look,” Sam said, dragging Dean further into the room.

Dean did notice that Cas was still passed out on the bed. He was breathing. So, good.

“What?” Dean groused, tugging his shirtsleeve free of his gigantic brother’s hands.

The news was on again, camera trained on a petite newscaster who stood outside what appeared to be a local hospital.

“-no word yet on what the virus is capable of. Reports started coming in in the late hours of last night. Citizens are gathering in the Emergency Ward, clearly upset and visibly stricken.”

“This again? What’re we looking at? Buncha colds and people are freaking out?” Dean groused.

“Dean, this is serious. Listen,” Sam said sharply.

The newscaster tried to flag down a middle-aged man passing by and he pretty much freaked out.

“I don’t want an interview! What are you thinking, woman? Leave us alone! Stop asking questions!” Dean raised his brows.

A woman, clearly his wife, looked mortified. “Please, give us space. Have some decency. Does privacy mean anything anymore?”

The newscaster turned back to the camera. “Well, uh, residents are unsure about the origins of the, this virus. Doctors across the country are debating the cause for such a condition. If men across the town of Alton are developing alternate, uh, sex organs, what should the rest of the population have to look out for?”

Dean made a face. “Say what?”

A diagram of the human body flashed across the screen with a caption scrolling by.

“Dozens of cases of transformative male-to-female organs have cropped up.”

A line pointed to the barely-discernible groin area of the human diagram. “Male patients have been woken by odd sensations akin to vertigo, only to discover that their sexual organs have disappeared, only to be replaced by female genitalia.”

 

Dean gaped at the screen.

 

“What the what?” he eked out. He stared at Sam. “ _What?_ ”

Sam had his worried face on. “Yeah. It’s freakin’ bizarre. The story’s only just building. At this hour, not many people are up and about, but come breakfast time, this is gonna be national news.”

“But what is it? Sam, what the fuck?” Dean cried. “Dudes are … are …?” He was at a loss.

“Growing vaginas?” Sam helped.

Dean’s face said it all. “Eurgh!”

“Looks like it’s some weird virus. They’re not sure when or where it began. The doctors aren’t even sure if it’s contagious or-“

“Contagious?” Dean all but squealed. “DUDE!” His hands automatically went to cover his bits. “Is my junk in peril?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, you’re missing the point.”

“Sammy, guys are losing their dicks! They’re getting-“ he waved his left hand about, “De-junkified. Peen-ectomies. Growing lady parts! How? Why? Jesus!”

“Okay, calm down,” Sam sighed. “You’re not listening. All the reports started coming in around midnight. No earlier cases, and all are focused within what appears to be a twenty mile radius of the docklands.”

Dean blinked. “The docks?”

Sam cocked a brow. “Exactly.”

“You think, this is a curse?”

Sam stood up, lowering the TV volume. “Well, it’s not exactly natural, Dean. Overnight missing genitalia? Definitely not an actual medically sound virus, dude.”

“So weird,” Dean said, eyes darkening as he imagined losing his own family jewels. He gave himself another squeeze. All accounted for, thank God.

“Sam,” Dean said slowly, turning to look at his brother. “We were totally in that radius.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said. The taller Winchester sat down on the extra bed.

“Uh,” Dean said, “Do you … uh, are your…?” He pointed at Sam, then wiggled his finger awkwardly. 

“Have I developed female genitalia?” Sam said, eyebrows high. “No, Dean. Pretty certain.”

Dean made a snarky look. “Like you’d even realize, Samantha.” At Sam’s bithc-face, Dean added, “So, why weren’t we affected? I mean, this has got to be that demon we ganked, right? The Shrine thing? It totally could have something to do with-“

Suddenly Cas shifted where he lay. Dean and Sam turned to look at the dozy angel on the other bed.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said gently. “You feeling okay?”

Castiel blinked his eyes open, clearly disoriented. He sat up, trench coat rumpled, hair a mess.

“Why am I in bed?” Castiel asked gruffly.

Sam glanced at Dean. “You, uh, passed out.” Sam said.

“To be precise, you wilted like delicate flower,” Dean said. He smiled at Cas’ frown.

“I do not understand,” Cas murmured, looking about. He eyed Sam. “I slept here?”

“Only a few hours,” Sam said, hands clasping across his knees. “Figured we’d wait it out, since you’re an angel and all.”

“And we have like, _noooo_ idea how to fix angel shit,” Dean added.

Cas looked so disgruntled by this news, that it had Dean beyond amused. When Cas stood, he looked a real mess. His hair was a disaster and he had pillow creases in his cheek. The dude, when he wasn’t raining down fire and blood was pretty adorable.

Dean smacked himself internally. _None of that,_ he told himself.

 

 Cas looked down his own person, seemingly unsure. “I feel … strange.”

“Well, maybe you overexerted yourself,” Sam said consolingly. “Nothing wrong with a recharge.”

“I do not require _recharging_ ,” Cas said deeply, brows dark and low.

“Well, maybe ya do,” Dean said.

Castiel stood up. He didn’t appear to be wobbly, which was good. God knows Dean’s had his fair share of concussions and messed up mornings.

Dean was about to say as much, when a deeply disconcerted look passed over Castiel’s face.

When his hand went to his crotch, both Sam and Dean leaned back.

“Whoa, whoa!” Dean cried, turning away. Sam had his hands up.

“Cas, uh, really?”

Cas ignored them, his brows only furrowing deeper.

Dean wanted to blush, but with pure unadulterated control, he refrained from doing so. He didn’t want to think of Cas feeling/fondling his junk. It was weird.

Cas blinked. He let his hand fall away before sitting down again.

Sam and Dean looked at one another.

“I-“ Cas began, then stopped. He seemed beyond confused.

“What, Cas? Spit it out,” Dean huffed. 

Cas looked at him then, those pure blue eyes staring into his damn soul. “I seem to no longer be in possession of a penis.”

Dean’s jaw fell open.

Sam jumped up. “Crap! Are you sure?”

Dean carefully scooted back, away. 

“I am fairly sure, Sam. Jimmy has always owned a penis, and so, in a way, have I. Admittedly, I pay it no mind, though it is prone to odd moments of stimulation brought on by-“

“Cas!” Dean bellowed.

Castiel blinked like a deer caught in headlights. “In conclusion,” he began again, “Though I am not particularly attached to sex organs, I would certainly notice its absence.”

“Oh God,” Sam said, rubbing at his face. Dean continued to inch away.

“Cas, I need you to double-check,” Sam said through his fingers morosely.

Castiel tilted his head. “Check?”

Sam sighed and looked at the angel, sucking his lips. “Can you, uh, can you inspect your … underwear?”

Cas seemed intrigued and confused, but not unwilling to get over the fact that _his penis was missing._  

“Dean!” Sam barked, “Get back in here! It’s not contagious, you ass!”

“How can you be _sure?_ ” Dean hissed from the door of the bathroom. “I do _not_ want what he’s got, man! I cannot be dickless. No way _jose._ ”

“If it is contagious, it’s too late, numbnuts. We’d both have it by now. We’ve been in here all night with him. Now get back in here.” _And don’t leave me to deal with this shit,_ his eyes said as well. _You run, I will kill you._

Dean winced. “Ugh,” he groaned, coming back into the room. “I swear, Cas, why you gotta complicate shit?”

Cas had been busy undoing his suit pants. Dean blushed suddenly, not having noticed this little development. “You don’t have to check here!” he cried out awkwardly.

Castiel looked up from his pants. He let go and the dark fabric just slumped around those slim hips. Dean pressed the pads of his fingers to his eyes. He was _so_ going to need a drink.

“Uh, we can give you privacy,” Sam started but was cut off when Cas just unceremoniously jammed his hand down into his white boxers. Sam looked up and away.

Dean just stared, clearly beyond all politeness.

How … _how_ was it that they were stood here in a gritty motel at four in the morning with Cas who had his hand down his pants while the Winchesters watched? The fuck kinda hell was this?

A sick fascination washed over Dean. Cas’ face gave nothing away as he made a point of exploring the goods downstairs.

Dean could just imagine his thought process.

Cas frowned. “I have no penis. But I do seem to have…” he paused, eyes confused. He pulled his hand back and out, immediately looking at his fingers.

Dean thought he was going to go cross-eyed. Life was a cesspool of madness. Cas was _fascinated_. Oh God, his fingers, were they wet? Was it true?

“Cas?” Dean rumbled, the gruffness in his voice causing him to clear his throat. “Uh, do … do you have … lady parts now?”

“Lady parts?” Cas queried, gazing at Dean in confusion. “I am not sure. Why?”

 

“It’s, uh, like an after effect from that demon curse.” Sam said, sucking his teeth. “A lot of men are being changed, uh, like you.”

“Hmm,” Cas murmured, pressing his fingers together, testing them. Shit. Dean felt sick.

 

“I will have to investigate this,” Cas said, immediately going to tug at his boxers.

“No!” Both Sam and Dean leapt forward. “Go in the bathroom,” Sam supplied. “It’s private, Cas. Private stuff, you know? We spoke about this.”

 

Cas looked baffled. “I see.”

 

He walked between the Winchesters, uncaring of his belt and pants shuffling down his legs.

 

“This is a fucking nightmare,” Dean huffed, falling back onto the bed Cas had just vacated.

 

—-***—-


	2. Chapter 2

“And?” Sam asked when Cas finally reappeared ten minutes later.

Dean glanced up, firstly noticing that Cas had zipped up, then noticing that the angel still seemed unruffled by this ‘development’.

“I made a full inspection of my groin,” Cas began, making Dean groan loudly and cover his face. “And I do seem to have a missing penis and scrotum. It is fairly intriguing, but I cannot be too sure of what exactly has appeared in its place.”

“You trying to tell us you’re _not sure_ if you have a vagina or not?” Dean sat up suddenly.

Cas shrugged. “I’m not an expert on such matters, Dean. Even with this body, I had very little to do with Jimmy’s penis.”

“Oh God, make it stop,” Dean whined.

“Dean, shut up for a second,” Sam warned.

“It’s very simple,” Cas said, perching on the end of the bed Sam was sitting on. “As an angel, I have no need for bathing, as I do not sweat, or age in any way. I also do not eat, so use of the bathroom is unnecessary. As I mentioned before, Jimmy’s penis-“

“Jesus, it’s yours, Cas!” Dean all but bellowed. “Jimmy’s gone. Yeah, it _was_ his body, but it’s yours now. Your body, your fucking junk! Stop talking about it like you’re handling some other dude’s dick or something. Freakin’ weird.” Beyond weird.

 

Cas stared back.

Dean glared at him.

 

“Okay…” Sam said. “So, you’re pretty sure you’ve got, uh, girl parts now?”

“I am unsure,” Castiel said calmly, not looking away from Dean.

The elder Winchester defiantly stared back.

“You got no clue about chicks, huh?” Dean said. “Surprise.”

Cas squinted at him.

“You can always look yourself,” Cas suggested.

Dean felt his eyes widen at the mere thought before he spurted out retaliation. “Uh, no way. Sammy can do it. Pretty sure he knows what girls have. I think.” He smirked at Sam’s glare.

“How about this instead,” Sam countered. He slid off the bed and stood, eyeing his watch. “We have the room til noon. I am going to rustle us up some breakfast. You two are going wait here and figure this shit out.”

“Hey, no fair,” Dean whined. “I’m tired!”

“Tough shit, Dean,” Sam said, snatching the car keys off the table. He dangled them in front of Dean before heading out. “I assume you got the seats cleaned out already? The gunk?”

Dean scowled. “Of course, asshole.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The door closed behind Sam and Dean just sighed.

So here he was, sitting in a dimly lit motel with Castiel the angel, who may or may not be sporting new accessories in the pants department. What was his life?

Dean looked at his friend. Castiel was watching him.

“This really doesn’t bug you, huh?” Dean asked wearily. 

Cas said nothing, he just shrugged and cocked a brow. 

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, man,” Dean sighed. “If my engine got stolen and replaced with a ferris wheel, I’d be pretty pissed.”

“I do not understa-“

“You have no dick. You have no balls. That doesn’t freak you out? You angels really don’t do sex, huh?”

Cas licked his lips. “I am not defined by my organs, Dean. You humans are quite invested in your sexual parts. It’s fascinating, really. And the idea of owning female genitalia scares you. Why?”

Damnit, when Cas used the big blues on him, Dean felt like mush. 

“It’s … not scary, just, wait, not it is scary. I like having a dick.”

“Why?”

Dean did not want to have a gender studies class right now. He had enough to worry about without concerning himself with the concept of owning a fully functioning uterine system. Speaking of which…

“You think you got the whole package?” Dean asked quizzically. “I mean, did you get baby-making parts? Or just, like, the ornamental option?”

Cas tilted his head. “I do not follow.”

“Jesus, Cas, are you sure you got even got a pink taco? We only have this bullshit news story to go off.”

“Dean, I said before, female anatomy is not my strong suit.”

“Then find out!”

Cas scowled. “Do not yell, Dean. I’m sure you understand that there’s no polite way for me to start inspecting women and their anatomies.”

“Go on the internet, then!” Dean cried.

“And do what, exactly?” Cas asked as Dean stood abruptly. He rummaged around in Sam’s stuff. A-ha! Dean came back to the bed and plopped down with Sam’s laptop.

“It’s called Google. Use it.” He thrust the laptop at Castiel once he had the browser open.

Cas took the machine gingerly, unsure of what it contained.

“There’s nothing here,” he rumbled, brows furrowed.

“You gotta type shit, Cas,” Dean sighed. He felt almost justified in this. Thinking about it, he was more of a saint than Sam these days. Helping his buddy out with a sex crisis? Teaching an angel how to use the internet? That was surely worth a few gold coins.

Dean stood and closed the abysmally thin curtains. Sure, no one was liable to peer in any time soon, but with the sun rising and the notorious Winchester luck, a news crew might gather outside and catch them looking at stuff. Plus, it made Dean feel better. He refused to let this weird him out any more than it already did.

He heard the faint ticking sound of keyboard keys. When Dean came back to settle on the bed opposite Cas, he couldn’t help smile. Cas was poking at the keyboard, a letter a second, it seemed. _Tick_ , look at screen, lick lips, _tick_ and repeat.

After a few minutes, Dean leaned in. “Any luck, tiger?”

Cas glanced up, face lit up blue by the screen. He swivelled the laptop around on his knees. “I am not sure,” he murmured.

Dean wasn’t really in the mood for pussy, but hey. He squinted at the computer.

“Cas, what the hell? What did you google? Wait, did you actually type in ‘pink taco’?”

“Only lines of text are showing up,” the angel answered. “You are better at this.”

Dean blinked, scrolling through the various website links. Recipes, photoshop jokes and menus. God, he didn’t want to look up, but he did. Damn it. Cas was blinking owlishly at him, like a freakin’ baby bird that fell out of its nest and couldn’t figure out how to get back home. Dean hadn’t planned on taking part in this messed up thing.

“Ah hell,” he breathed. He patted the spot next to him. “Three minutes. We scroll through some pics and you just tell me if you got what they have. _Capisce_?”

Castiel moved to the other bed, settling down beside Dean as they hunched over the laptop. He nodded.

Dean sighed and prayed to the heavens that his mother wasn’t watching from above.

“Okay,” Dean opened up Google and typed in a few choice words. He had to be careful. This was not a sexy adventure. Medical-type journal photos would probably work.

“Here we go,” Dean peered at the list. Cool, nothing too raunchy. Wouldn’t wanna freak Cas out, or get randy or some bizarre crap.

The website opened up and Dean blinked. Yup. Hello. Bingo.

“Okay, buddy, you got one of those?”

Cas leaned in close, eyes squinting. He seemed to be scrutinizing every pixel.

God, _awkward_. Dean wasn’t one to shy away from porn, so medical photography probably shouldn’t bother him at all. Very clinical. Notes, diagrams and such: easy.

Cas tilted his head. “I am not sure. I was not able to view myself from this angle.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Dean scrolled them through a couple more journals. Cas just seemed fascinated more than anything. Dean found this unsettling and uncomfortable. He wouldn’t say he reacting to the imagery, not at all. But Cas genuinely hadn’t taken the time to get to know chicks and their stuff?  Man, what a boring life.

“I swear, if it turns out this is contagious, I will burn this town to the ground,” Dean huffed.

“It bothers you that much?” Cas said, looking at Dean. Damn, he was up close and personal. Dean nudged his shoulder.

“A man with a vagina?”

Cas pointed at the diagram on the screen. “With a vulva and vagina and clitoris and-“

“Oh my God, shut up,” Dean squeaked.

“You need to use the correct terminology, Dean.”

“No, actually, I don’t. You know why? ‘Cos I don’t care. This is too weird, man. You’re sitting here next to me, normal as ever, but you, you don’t have the right junk, dude! You have, like, like-“ Dean raked his fingers through his hair, his mind supplying images of Cas beside him, his pants much looser, legs closed tighter, flesh different, warmer, wetter, pinker.

“Oh Christ on a cracker,” Dean’s face was flushing, he could feel it. 

He jumped when his phone rang suddenly. Dean leapt across the room to get it.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice came over a little excited/panicked. “I stopped over at the hospital.”

“What? Breakfast, Sammy. Priorities!”

“Listen!” Sam said loudly, “Looks like the effects of the curse are wearing off. Not like, really quick or anything, but there was this guy in the ER saying he had to drive six hours to get in from the outskirts of town, like, the boonie part of this hellhole. He said he woke up with the symptoms and by the time he got here, the effect had mostly diminished.”

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed, “So you mean it’ll go away in six hours. If Cas got it only a few hours ago, then-“

“No, hold up,” Sam said sharply. “There’s obviously an issue. Some guys are still here getting treated and they came in at midnight. So they’ve also gone over six hours with no loss of, uh, stuff.”

“The hell?” Dean frowned. He turned, scrubbing at his hair again. Cas was still poking away at the computer.

“I’m guessing it’s to do with the radius from the blast-zone. There haven’t been any incidents with people outside of this town, so it is localized. I’m thinking the closer to the blast, the more intense the effect. You know?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Makes sense. So we gotta wait this out?”

“Cas was closest to the explosion, though. He would have been for miles.”

“Yeah, but we were there too,” Dean countered. “Why didn’t we get girl-ified?”

“I don’t know, man. The only thing I can think of is the demon-shrine gunk we got splattered with. Cas wasn’t slammed with that, remember?”

“So, maybe it was protective? Blobs of demon guts protecting us from demon hoodoo?”

“Maybe, Dean,” Sam added. “Okay, just thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks,” Dean said.

“How’s the sex ed class going?” 

Dean could _hear_ the smirk through the phone line. “You sonuvabitch,” Dean hissed. “You just ain’t man enough to help a friend in need, are you?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, okay, Dean. You play the good guy this time. What’s Cas doing anyhow?”

Dean looked over at the angel squinting at the laptop balanced on his legs. “He’s looking at pussy pics.”

“Oh, jeez, okay. So glad I’m not there.”

“Whatever. When you bringing me my breakfast?”

Sam was laughing. “I’m still looking for an open restaurant. Looks like a lot of the men in town have been crippled by this epidemic.” Sam sounded beyond amused. “So I gotta drive a ways out to find food. Might be a while.”

“Ugh, fine,” Dean grumbled. 

He snapped the phone off and slid it across the table.

When Dean turned, he almost tripped over himself.

Cas was currently pressing his hand to his crotch while staring at the computer.

“C-Cas! What’re you doing, man?”

Castiel looked up. “I am comparing elements in these visuals with what I believe I have.”

“Oh,” Dean paused. _So you’re not masturbating in a dark motel room with your buddy standing awkwardly in the corner?_ “Okay, well stop.”

Dean came round to grab the laptop. “I think we’re done her- _Holy hell!”_ He actually did trip then, his foot catching in the sheet pooling off the bed. “Cas! What the hell?”

Cas just blinked confusedly. “This is what the computer did. I was reading an article on the various sizes found among labia when this screen appeared.

Dean blinked at the gaudy, flashing, image-covered website that now soiled Sam’s laptop.

“Wow,” he said, gently closing the laptop. “That is some nasty porn, my friend. Wow.”

“But I wasn’t finish-“

“Oh, I think you are,” Dean smiled sickly, sending apologies to Sam, wherever he was. “I think we need to check out of this place.”

“But-“

“Nasty porn, Cas. Too nasty. You’re an angel. Not for you.”

 

—-***—-

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha. More to follow. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean totally goes there.

By the time Dean had packed up his and Sam’s crap, checked them out of the motel and paid, Sam was back with food. He rolled into the parking lot, amused to find Cas standing idly by a pile of duffle bags and miscellaneous clothing.

 

Dean was making his way over when Sam helped toss their goods into the Impala’s trunk.

 

“Tell me you got piles of food, Sammy. Tell me,” Dean barked out, staring angrily at what appeared to be the motel bill in his hand.

 

“All the diners were closed, so I had to go through a Mickey Dee’s. Breakfast sandwiches all round.” Sam held up a stuffed bag of food. Cas took it and peered inside, curiosity winning him over.

 

“Not for you,” Dean snatched the bag back before walking around the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. Sam just shrugged at Cas before opening the passenger side door.

 

Cas looked annoyed. Moreso than usual anyway.

“I do not need to hover around you,” Cas said gruffly. “My work here is done.”

A thump and curse indicated Dean had attempted to exit the Impala and stand up. His head reappeared over the car.

“Are you crazy? Cas, you got cursed!”

 

Sam blinked. “Oh yeah! Hold on, I have news. When I was leaving the hospital, I overheard nurses talking about the man-to-women patients. So far it looks like it’s not like a full female change-out. It’s just the basic, uh parts.”

 

“You think you’re making sense?” Dean said acidly.

 

Sam sighed, “I mean, men aren’t suddenly growing uteruses or ovaries or fallopian tubes, Dean! It’s a curse more for show. Not for like, pregnancy or stuff … like that …”

Dean looked sick. Cas looked grave.

“So, uh, good news, then?” Dean mumbled. Fuck, imaging Cas with eggs and babies and a womb? So not something he wanted to dwell on.

 

Castiel looked to the heavens. “I have no reason to wait on this. I can go talk to others, find out what I can about this condition. Perhaps another of my brethren has experience in such curses. Balthazar, maybe.”

 

Sam blinked. “ Hold on, Cas. Dean? You didn’t tell him?” Sam said, staring over at his brother.

Dean squinted. Cas squinted. “Told me what?”

Sam turned with a roll of his eyes. “It’ll probably wear off, Cas. The curse isn’t permanent. At least, so far, we don’t think it is.”

Cas’ head turned slowly, eyes catching Dean. “You knew this?”

“Uh,” Dean mumbled. “I forgot to mention it, okay?”

Cas’ eyes sparked. Dean stared back, flustered.

 

“Oh, Jeez,” Sam breathed. This day could not end, could it?

 

—-***—-

 

Sam would have liked to just clock the two of them. Both of the other men were acting like brats. The car was stifled by their collective annoyance and the drive out of the small, dismal town was more than enough to bear.

 

Cas wasn’t speaking to Dean, which in turn made Dean a talkative asshole. He’d already spurted off insults about Cas’ angel mojo not being up to scratch and his ‘prickishness, oh wait, _nevermind_ ’. The dickies jokes were getting out of hand.

 

Sam was going to prison. He was going to be charged with fratricide on behalf of a celestial being the size of the Chrysler building. Sam just wanted peace and quiet, you know? A few moments each day with no fights. Dean was such a drama queen sometimes. He loved arguing, got off on yelling. He loved bustin' bad guys and slitting demon necks. That was probably something worrisome that a psychologist would love looking into, but Sam was no psychologist, or psychiatrist. Hell, he was, as of right now, a college drop-out with borderline murderous tendencies towards two grown men who could not seem to _get it together_. 

Dean’s unrelenting passionate rage, his need to be angry at Cas always said so much. Sam could only drop so many ‘heart-eyes’ comments before Dean smacked him upside the head. 

So sitting in a confined space with a sexually ambivalent being that had recently sprouted female parts and a brother who was struggling already with the _male_ concept of said friend, never mind the sexually ambivalent side of friend, well, it was too much for Sam. Sam Winchester only had so much patience for these two morons and it had all been spirited away.

 

When they had been on the road most of the day, that sad, little town nothing more than a speck in the rearview, Sam lost it.

 

It was hot and the air was dry and the road was desolate. 

 

“Pull over,” Sam said loudly, cutting off Dean’s annoying singing.

“Say what?” Dean asked, glaring out at the midday sun.

“Pull over, Dean,” Sam said roughly. 

“Why, you gotta whiz?” Dean said, steering the Impala to the dusty side of the road. Dean was not expecting Sam to rocket launch himself out of the car like he was on fire.

 

“You two need to grow the hell up!” Sam yelled, spinning to point at them.

 

Cas poofed out of the car, reappearing at Sam’s side. _Lazy bastard_.

 

“I’m so tired of this shit. Dean, stop ragging on Cas for no damn reason. Cas, you don’t have to do what he says!”

 

“I do not do anything he asks,” Cas intoned deeply.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Whatever, just don’t-“

 

Sam was cut off when the Impala gave a musty gurgle before the engine rumbled to a stop.

 

“Get in the car, Sammy,” Dean growled. “Stop acting like a fuckin’ princess.”

 

“Not until you and Cas make up. It’s driving me nuts.”

 

“Fine!” Dean bellowed, getting out of the car. He looked across at them, hands on the roof of his baby. “Cas?” He eyed the angel. “I’m sorry you piss me off.”

 

“That is hardly an apology, Dean,” Cas rumbled.

Sam’s bitchface could rival a squad of second-place cheerleaders.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m acting like a bitch. Sorry about not telling you the curse would be over soon, and I’m sorry you’ve got ladyjunk.”

 

Cas waited, contemplating. “Apology accepted.”

 

“Good!” Sam crowed, clambering back into the car. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. I haven’t slept in like two days. Find a motel, Dean.”

 

“You find one,” Dean groused.

 

Cas reappeared in the backseat. Dean fired up the engine and rolled them off the side of the road. The Impala rumbled loudly when he hit the gas.

 

—-***—-

 

When they did finally find a motel, it was a little higher end than they were used to. It had a breakfast bar and mini restaurant to match. Also, a swimming pool like something from a sad Wes Anderson flick.

 

“I need a drink,” Dean groused. 

“Good idea,” Sam said. “I need a nap.” And boy, did he. The sasquatch face-planted on the nearest bed once they got into their room.

“Cas?” Dean turned to look at the angel. “You?”

The angel stood outside the room. “I will go with you, if that is amenable. I think Sam would like to be alone.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dean said with a tilt of his head. 

 

—-***—-

 

“It’s just, weird, you know?” Dean was warbling on, hours later. Cas had imbibed a fair number of drinks himself, but was nowhere near as intoxicated as the elder Winchester.

“What is?” He queried, walking beside a decidedly drunk Dean who jangled the cars keys loudly in his hand.

The sun was setting, indicating another day gone and nothing done.

“You!” Dean blurted, waving a hand vaguely in Cas’ direction. “You got cursed, man! Why you? I mean, thank God it was you and not me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be a good owner of vag, know what I’m sayin’? How would I - how do you-? I dunno! Why would such a freakin’ curse ever exist?”

“To unsettle men like you, I would assume,” Cas responded calmly.

“Men like _me_? Whatchu sayin’, Cas?”

Castiel looked at his friend fondly. “You are quite antiquated in your beliefs, Dean. You are repressed, unlike your brother. I can assume it blossoms from your childhood, growing up with a father like John Winchester. You place a lot of value on masculinity.”

“Wha? You make me sound like a caveman, dude,” Dean wobbled. They kept walking. The car wasn’t too far.

“It is not necessarily damaging, Dean. But the other side of such beliefs unfortunately sheds a negative light on the alternative. The feminine. Femininity scares you.”

“I love women!” Dean cried out, clearly missing the point. “Why you guys gotta keep harpin’ on about stuff like that. It’s messed up.”

Cas actually smiled. “I am well aware of your attraction for women. What I meant was, that the concept of a man bearing anything resembling feminine traits terrifies you. Even if such traits are not physically manifested. In my case, right now, I am mostly male in form. The new addition of female organs has you spooked. Am I wrong?”

“I-“ Dean swallowed. The two men came up to the Impala as the last of the evening light faded. “I love boobs.”

Cas tilted his head and smiled. “I do not posses breasts, Dean.”

“I know that!” the Winchester cried, “I, just, you, you’re Cas. Without boobs.” Dean’s hands came up to illustrate something. Squeezing motions. Ah.

“Do you wish I had breasts, Dean?” Cas asked quietly. Such a strange question.

Dean thought about it for a moment, hands still grasping at nothing. He tilted his head back a bit. Mmm. Cas with boobies? That would be so fucking strange. 

“Naw, Cas, it’s not all about the titties. I love them, though.”

“Yes, you said so,” Castiel sighed.

The two men clambered into the Impala. Dean seemed to pause. He glanced over at Cas.

It was the same, familiar profile. Cas had a strong, sharp nose, and a heavy helping of stubble on his jaw (definitely not girly). His eyebrows were dark, eyes heavily-lidded, like he was perpetually working out equations in his head. And that stupid shirt and tie get-up? 

Cas looked the same, but he wasn’t. Dean knew, for a fact, that his buddy was sitting there with a Goddamn vagina (and vulva and clitoris) that, for all intents and purposes, would be gone in a day or two. A few days, maybe hours, and this would never happen again.

Dean licked his lips. “I love pussy,” Dean said, voice gruff.

Cas cocked a brow at him. “Must you be so crude?”

“No, listen.” Dean shifted in his seat, twisting to look at Cas properly. “I _love_ pussy. I do. And this curse? It’s weird and crazy and yes, it makes me uncomfortable. But at the end of the day, I still love pussy. Even if it’s on you, man.”

Cas’ face screwed up in consternation. “I don’t think that’s what you’re trying to say, Dean.”

“I’m saying, I’m not _that_ freaked out by your little, uh, change.” Dean’s gaze might have flicked over Cas. He couldn’t even tell if Cas was physically different in that damn trench and suit.

Cas swallowed. Dean followed the bobbing of his throat, a certain dryness affecting his own throat.

Cas shifted in his seat.

“What?” Dean said, noting the angel’s discomfort.

“I,” Cas cleared his throat. “It seems that the female organs are, in some part, affected.”

Dean peered at his friend before his eyes lit up. 

“You mean, everything works downstairs?”

Jesus, the _images_. Dean couldn’t get it out of his head. He hadn’t been able to all day, if he was brutally honest. He’d been staring down the barrel of a thought barrage that revolved around whether or not Cas’ vagina was functional or not. Dean had pretty much been obsessing non-stop about Cas’ bits.

His jeans felt constricting, so Dean adjusted himself. Cas noticed and looked away.

“Alcohol certainly lowers your inhibitions, Dean,” the angel said.

“Okay, you know what?” Dean said, scrubbing his chin. “We have an opportunity to understand this. I’m taking it Sam grilled you on what’s going on down there?”

“No,” Cas turned to gaze into his eyes. “He feels it is too personal.”

“And what do you think?” Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. “I feel no different.”

“So you haven’t done a full physical yet? This is a pretty rare curse, Cas. We should investigate it fully before it fades.”

Castiel smirked suddenly and laughed.

“Are you suggesting that you will be my stand-in physician, Dean Winchester?” Cas turned his face towards Dean.

The Winchester was dead serious, eyes not wavering. When would he ever get such an opportunity? A chance like this coming round again? Never gonna happen. Dean hadn’t known he wanted it, didn’t know he could dream up such fucking madness.

“Cas, I would very much like to get all up in your lady parts,” Dean said, voice gravelly, throat dry.

Cas blinked, smile dropping at the sincere _want_ in Dean’s eyes.

“I mean, we gotta make sure everything’s okay,” Dean said, clearing his throat. He turned back to start the engine. The Impala roared to life. Dean was pretty sure he could drive the half mile back to the motel. “I do know ladies, after all.”

Cas watched him fidget.

 

“Okay,” was all he uttered before Dean’s fingers wrapped around the steering wheel tightly.

 

Fuck.

 

“Right,” Dean murmured, flushing from his head to his toes. Awesome. Maybe.

 

—-***—-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Thank you for reading. The kudos and comments totally made my day.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on tumblr: nejineee.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Use of sexual language/imagery. I assume you know this going into such a weird plot, but still.

Dean had the decency to not drag Sam into this. After all, the moose needed his beauty sleep. Plus, he could help Cas fine on his own. Dean wasn’t _that_ bad of a friend.

 

So he booked another room at the motel. Cas said nothing, just followed Dean round the lit swimming pool and over to the other side of the motel complex.

 

Once in the small yet tidy room, Dean felt his nerves waning.

He was beyond excited, and yet totally freaked out. Was this what cocaine felt like?

Cas wasn’t ruffled at all.

“You’re pretty cool about this, huh?” Dean said shakily. He shucked his plaid shirt and tossed it at a chair, leaving only his white tee on with his jeans. 

“Hmm,” Cas sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room. “My _condition_ clearly fascinates you, Dean. I am not unwilling to allow you the time to investigate. Sam might be interested too-“

“No!” Dean yelped. “Please, God, no. Sam … he wouldn’t understand, haha.” Dean rubbed at his own neck awkwardly.

Castiel eyed him. Dean licked his lips. 

“Right. Okay. Pants off.”

Cas blinked. 

“Okay, rude. I’m being rude. I’ll, uh, give you some privacy,” Dean warbled, turning to head into the bathroom.

Once alone, he was able to stare himself in the eye, the fluorescent lighting blinding him. “Fuck,” he breathed.

This was so not something he wanted Sam to know about. Dean and his fucked up predilections again. His wandering eye. Like how many times had he checked out Cas’ ass before this thing? How many times had his heart almost leapt out of his throat when Cas got too close? Dean never liked this territory, so he tended to just avoid it. This was okay.

This was Cas, with a vagina. Like a chick. A chick without boobs, or long hair. This time next week, Cas would be all male again. Dean was just gonna take this opportunity to … investigate.  To make sure Cas even had what they thought he had. Hell, the guy could be sporting a tail, not female goodies. Best Dean, the expert on women, check him over.

 

Yeah, like a doctor. Doctor Sexy. Doctor Winchester.

 

“I am one messed up mofo,” he uttered.

 

He washed his hands and face, scrubbed his fingers raw. This was, like, a medical exam. Yeah. Dean exited the bathroom five minutes later, content in his thoughts as he towelled off his hands.

He came to a standstill.

Cas hadn’t just removed his pants. Across the room sat a pile of carefully folded clothes. Trench coat, shirt, trousers, even socks and tie.

Dean’s gut squirmed.

Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed,nonchalant, like this happened all the time.

Dean never got to see Cas like this. He was pretty tan for an angel accountant. His skin was smooth over his chest and shoulders, his hands large where they sat, fingers crossed in his lap.

Dean felt woozy.

And those stupid boxers? “Jesus, Cas, we gotta get you more modern undies.”

Cas glanced down at the oversized white boxers. “These are not modern?”

Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Not since nineteen ninety-three.”

Cas blinked up at him. “What do you wear?”

Dean swallowed. “Uh, not _those_.”

“If I have to be naked through this _examination_ , Dean, then perhaps you should be too.”

Dean gaped for a moment. “That’s not how examinations go, Cas.”

Castiel blinked. “You are not a doctor.”

Well, he had a point there. This ‘examination’ idea was really flimsy. Dean felt heat settle in his stomach, winding lazily through his system.

“Ah, hell,” he breathed and tugged at his jeans and belt. Once the denim hit the floor, he yanked at the back neckline of his t-shirt, tugging it up and over his head.

When he could see again, he found a very intrigued angel staring at his junk.

“Uh, Cas?” he murmured warily. 

“Your underwear is indeed very different,” Castiel murmured thoughtfully. “Though, in my current state, I think it may be too confining.”

And there it was again, Dean’s thoughts wandering down Imagination Lane, thinking of Cas with … with …

Dean couldn’t wait.

He just fell forward and kneeled on the grody carpet in front of the angel.

Cas stared down at him, eyebrows high. He seemed unconcerned.

“Let’s, uh, let’s get this started.” Dean said roughly. He tugged at the edge of those white boxers.

Cas tilted his head and shrugged. He leaned back, resting his weight on one hand while the other simply pressed down the seam in his underwear. “There is a lot more room in these shorts,” he murmured conversationally.

Dean’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull, his tongue sticking to the top of his mouth. Cas was pressing the fabric flat, clearly indicating that there was no bulge of any sort to be seen.

“I can see that,” Dean said. 

Cas then pushed at the waistband of his boxers, hips lifting. He fell back so he could use both hands and Dean didn’t have a moment to prepare himself before Cas lifted his hips up and shoved the white fabric, wiggling the boxers down to his knees and kicking them off, nudging Dean’s jaw with his shin.

Dean’s ears felt warm and his hands settled on Cas’ calves.

He had dark hair on those legs, which was new.

 _Not a chick, not a chick,_ Dean had to keep reminding himself, even if his cock was reacting positively to this whole thing.

“Dean?” Cas’ head popped up, peering down the bed.

“Uh,” Dean coughed and raised himself on his knees. “Right.”

“I have a fairly clear image in my head of what female genitalia is _supposed_ to look like,” Cas went on, resting on both elbows. “But you’re the expert.”

“I guess I am,” Dean said, hands settling on Cas’ knees. He looked up, making sure Cas was on board, before he pushed the angel’s legs apart. Dean rose up higher on his own legs.

“ _Holy Jesus,”_ Dean barely breathed out. He tugged at Cas’ legs, pulling him closer. “Cas,” he began, licking his lips. “I do believe you got yourself a pussy.”

“That is a very old, colloquialism, Dean.”

Dean didn’t hear him, he just pushed at Castiel’s knees.

“Are you sure?” Cas said, pushing himself up with his hands. His bright blue eyes stared curiously at Dean.

The Winchester blinked. “I should be extra sure.”

Cas had a thatch of hair between his legs. Not too surprising, considering he would have probably retained whatever growth Jimmy’s body still had at the time of transformation. God, Dean hadn’t slept with a _natural_ chick in _years._ _So_ many women were waxed and shaved into oblivion. Nothing like the nudie rags from his youth; the images that shaped what a woman looked like to a very impressionable and pubescent Dean.

“ _Cas_ ,” he breathed out. This position was annoying. His legs were already sore. So he stood quickly and pushed at Castiel, scooting him higher up the bed, just enough to give Dean room to lie flat between his legs.

 _His_ legs. Not _her_.

Mindfuck.

“Yes, Dean?” the angel answered, still curious. “Is it female?”

 _It_ sounded wrong. This was no _it_. “So far,” Dean licked his lips. “Mind if I get closer?”

Cas just shrugged, but Dean didn’t overlook the fact that the angel’s face was flushed, his toes curling every so often in the soft bedsheets. This was totally affecting Cas. So the angel _did_ have responses. Huh.

Dean opened Castiel’s legs wider, hands sliding under what was a surprisingly plump, round, ass.

 _Girl got booty,_ Dean smirked to himself.

His breath caught in his throat as he inspected Cas. Ever so gently, he pressed two fingers through the hair. Cas gave a little jolt.

Dean smirked wider. Oh yes, there we go.

“Cas, you definitely, one hundred percent, have a, as Charlie would say, ‘va-jayjay’. Holy cow, man.”

Dean’s fingers parted lips, pink and _oh,_ slightly wet.

Dean’s chest rumbled. Fuck. This was so fucking weird and yet so fucking hot.

“Can I check something?” he asked, looking up at Cas. The angel seemed to be lacking words, so he just nodded.

Dean rubbed his thumb up and over a familiar fleshy bit, his other fingers pressed Cas open wider, so Dean could see.

Cas gave a sharp breath and his hips twitched.

Dean’s cock jumped at the sound. 

“Cas, can you feel that?” He gently rubbed over the warm, wet nub and Castiel’s hips jerked again.

“Unh!” Cas yelped. “That’s. That’s strange, Dean.”

Dean’s breath came faster, rougher. This was turning him on way too much, way too fast.

“Do it again.”

Dean could have choked on his tongue.

“Wha-“ he began.

Cas’ hips shifted, seeking. “I said, do it again, Dean.” Cas’ breath was light. “I thought you said you were an expert?”

Well, if that wasn’t a challenge.

Dean snorted and proceeded to rub again at that most sensitive of spots. He flicked gently, spreading what appeared to be more wetness, all over. Cas was trying to control his reactions. That only spurred Dean on.

“Really, Cas?” Dean said snarkily. He slipped a finger inside. Cas’s eyes flew open. “You should be careful what you ask for.”

“Unh,” Cas breathed huffily, “I did not - ask. You offered.”

“I’m so generous.” Dean inserted another finger, gently pushing in and out, revelling in the shivers cascading over Castiel. “There we go.”

“Hmf,” Cas humphed, face all frowny. “This is strange.”

“Is it different to having a cock?” Dean asked, genuinely interested. His fingers kept sliding while his thumb made lazy circles.

Cas got back onto his elbows so he could watch Dean. He blinked every time Dean’s fingers slid out.

“You mean masturbation?”

Dean nodded, not looking away from those dark, wide blue eyes. “Yeah, you whack one out every now and again?”

Cas twitched. “I, _haa_ , I do not masturbate. I have attempted it, once. But it does not do much.”

Hmm, interesting. “So, you do get horny though?” Dean asked.

Cas eyed him, like having conversation while your friend had his fingers circling your clit was perfectly normal. “This body, my body, it - it has strange urges.”

Dean smirked. “Ain’t nothin gonna get in the way of a man and his libido.”

“Dean, this body is not carrying a libido. Though I do not necessarily have full control over every bodily aspect, the need for hormonal disruptions is unnecessary and a waste of my time and energy.”

“You know,” Dean said, looking at Castiel and his perpetual frown. “You say that, but you have yet to experience _this._ ”

And he leaned forward, tongue stretching out and gently licked a stripe up from where his fingers sat embedded, to the throbbing clitoris his thumb had been playing with.

Cas’ eyes blew wide and a gust of breath exited his lungs forcefully. Dean grinned and spread his tongue flat and proceeded to lap and lick and play with Cas. He pulled his fingers out and pushed Cas’ legs open, folded them away, back towards Cas. This opened Cas up good and proper and Dean was able to just lean in a _suck_ and lick and moan into the juicy flesh between his lips.

Cas was making possibly illegal sounds; sharp gasps, whining groans and his fingers had found their way into Dean’s hair, tugging and flexing against the hunter’s scalp.

“God, you taste good, Cas,” Dean breathed, tongue swirling. “So good. Mmmh!” He could do this forever.

Cas’ hips shuddered and Dean could sense something was cresting. He looked up, noticing that Cas had fallen back, feet scrabbling to find purchase. Dean relaxed his hold and those legs folded down, feet immediately pressing, thrusting his hips at Dean’s face. Dean smiled and pressed those eager hips back down. Cas whined loudly.

“More, Dean, more,” Cas breathed.

Dean pushed two fingers deep into Cas, feeling how excited the angel was. 

“Jesus,” Dean gasped, “Cas, you’re so wet.. So mmph!”

He leaned in and just started jerking his fingers inside Cas while simultaneously sucking and licking at his clit like some kind of drowning man.

He’d learnt this technique a few years ago from one of those experienced dancer girls he’d rolled about with in San Antonio. With the constant sucking and vigorous fingering, Cas should be coming like a fucked out virgin in about three seconds.

And boy, the sounds he made. Dean loved hearing them. Cas was panting, hips juddering, feet flexing.

“Dean, Dean!” Cas squeaked. “I don’t know what-“

Dean’s cock was crying out for attention, but he couldn’t pay it any heed. His skin felt hot and electric as he watched Cas unfold like a flower in the sun.

“Come on, baby,” He mouthed wetly, sloppily against Cas. “Come on.”

Cas gave a startled, almost frightened gasp and his head rolled back, hips pressing up. Dean felt Cas clenching around his fingers, wetness running down his palm. 

Cas’ fingers scraped through Dean’s hair. Cas shuddered through his orgasm, his legs closing around Dean’s head and neck, pinning him there.

 

“ _Holy_ ,” Dean breathed.

That was amazing. 

 

He said as much, once Cas’ legs relaxed and fell open again. 

Dean crawled up the angel, noting just how affected the man was by the whole thing.

Castiel’s eyes were open, blinking blearily. His chest heaved for air and his lips were bright pink, clearly bitten and worried.

A deep flush was covering those shapely shoulders and Dean couldn’t help appreciating the view.

He’d never, ever shared a bed with Cas (or any other man). Had never been this close to a naked angel. And yet here he was with pussy juice covering his mouth and chin, with a rather achy and exhausted right arm and sporting a boner the size of Texas.

 

“You okay?” Dean asked, settling in beside Cas. His arm rested on the angel’s stomach.

Cas nodded, beyond words. Dean knew that pleasing a woman was more than just fucking blindly into her. Very few signals gave appreciation to his lovemaking. Not that this was _lovemaking_. Jeez.

“Whoa, Cas,” Dean whispered, eyes roaming over the other man’s body. Cas was still twitching, Dean’s hand could feel every spasm. “You really did enjoy that.” He smiled into that blue-eyed gaze. “You’re welcome.”

 

“You,” Cas began, voice scratchy. “are a terrible physician.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is welcome and thanks for reading!


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